


Worlds Collide

by romans



Category: Doctor Who, James Bond (Movies), James Bond (Skyfall) - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romans/pseuds/romans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Come along, Bond!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worlds Collide

"What's your real name?" Bond asks, gripping the doorjamb with white-knuckled fingers. 

"You can call me The Doctor," Q says distractedly, which is _not_ a real answer. He's bent over one of the computers with his stupid hair flopping over his face, and his sonic gadget is glowing in his hand. Something somewhere in the building starts what is most definitely a countdown, and Q clicks his teeth. 

"Oops," Q says. He doesn't sound at all dismayed. When he looks up at Bond, he bloody well _winks_. 

"That'll take care of _that_ ," he says. "We've got five minutes, Bond. Shall we?" And then he slips the gadget into his pocket and takes off like the clappers.

They skid through a service door with thirty seconds left on the clock, and Q ducks into a Police Box that Bond is almost positive wasn't there before. It's his job to notice things like that. It's also his job to keep lunatic Quartermasters from getting themselves blown up, and the whole bloody block's going to go in less than fifteen seconds. Bond swears and barrels through the doors. 

"I thought you didn't do explo-" he says, and then his brain shuts down. 

He's in some sort of evil villain's lair, he thinks. But what's more important is that the room he's in bears no resemblance to any police box that Bond has ever seen in his life. He's halfway out the door before his brain catches up with his feet. 

He gets a facefull of dust and blinding heat, and then someone grabs him by the back of his coat and yanks him back. When he's safe inside, he lets himself slide down to the floor. The wood at his back is smooth and cool, and there's no sign of the inferno outside. He closes his eyes for a moment, scrapes ashes off of his tongue with his teeth, and tries to wrap his mind around what he's going to see when he looks up. 

Something buzzes in his ear and he opens his eyes to bat irritably at Q, who's running his blue exploding-pen _gadget_ over Bond's body like it's a grocery scanner. 

"I'm fine," he says. His vision is bleary and his ears are ringing, but he's had worse. 

Q sits down next to him on the floor and flops his head back against the door. He gives Bond a sideways look, fiddling with his gadget, and smiles like a proud mother. 

"What do you think?" he asks. He sounds almost expectant. 

"I think it's a bloody big room," Bond says. "How-"

"It's transdimensional," Q says, like that explains anything. Bond briefly wants to throttle the little bugger. Q hops up and bloody well skips - _skips_ up to the- console?- Bond is pretty sure it's a console- in the middle of the room. He runs a hand over the buttons, and then starts groping around under the panels. He comes up with a rubber mallet, which he brandishes in Bond's general direction. 

"The loo's down the hall over there," he says, "third door on your left. Go wash up." 

"You blew up MI6," Bond says. He may be feeling a little shell-shocked. It was bound to happen sometime. Nuclear bombs he can do, yes. 

This? 

Q whacks the console with his mallet and then drops it to pull a lever. Something starts whirring, and he dances around to the other side of the console. He has his shit-eating grin on, the one that drives Bond around the bend. 

This? Not so much.

"Who _are_ you?" he asks, again, because Q has explained bloody buggering fuckall.

"I'm the Doctor," Q says again, "and this is the TARDIS. She can take you anywhere in the Universe. Anywhen, too."

He pulls another lever and the whole room shakes. 

"Where are you from?" Bond's not getting off of the ground until he gets some answers. 

Q rolls his eyes. "I was on loan from UNIT," he says, and then, to himself, "God help us if you meet Jack," which makes no sense at all. 

"Look," Q says. "It's best if I just show you. How do you feel about New York? Say, 1920?" 

Bond opens and shuts his mouth. How he feels about New York in the twenties has no bearing on anything, as far as he can see. Q sighs and comes over to where Bond is sitting. He holds out one slim hand. 

"Basically," he says, "we have worlds to save."

Bond takes the proffered hand and lets Q pull him up. Saving the world is something he can understand, at least. Another day at the office. 

"And no," Q says, before Bond can even ask, "I'm not making you a sonic screwdriver." 

"What about an exploding pen?" Bond asks, just on principle. 

Q pushes the doors open and steps out of the police box. 

"Come along, Bond!"


End file.
